


make you sway

by tanyart



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Recall, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 05:18:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9533495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: "Well," Jesse thinks, "to hell with reason, if you’re this fond of someone."





	

It’s mid morning after breakfast, and Jesse finds himself staring across the room at Genji.  Under normal circumstances—which, this _is_ a normal circumstance, Jesse tells himself—staring at one’s supposed significant other (or _something-like-that_ ) isn’t too terrible of a crime.  Except.   _Except,_ Jesse has been eyeing Genji since last night, before dinner, after his shower, the moment Genji had slipped into bed with him, and then after they had woken up.  

And now Jesse is sneaking glances at Genji again, lifting his gaze from his tablet like for some reason his eyes can’t get enough of Genji sitting at their shared desk, doing absolutely nothing riveting.  Now that Jesse thinks about it, it must be an off-day for Genji, who looks a little weary without his faceplate, hair minimally styled, meaning Genji had either been too lazy to bother with the spray or knew he would be working with his helmet on for the majority of the day.  

Genji taps at his tablet, projecting the latest news articles.  There are several ones about politics.  Genji’s brow furrows reading the headlines, and Jesse feels something curl in his chest, quick and heated, and then it’s gone by the time he blinks and drops his gaze back to the tablet in his lap, opened to a data sheet of Overwatch’s recent requisitions.  Genji doesn’t notice, too busy reading.

Jesse’s face scrunches up.  It hits him at once that this goes beyond staring, it’s straight up ogling.   _Indecent_ ogling. He runs his hand down his face in mute exasperation at himself, but there’s no denying the simmering undercurrent he feels each time he looks, or thinks, or touches, even with something as casual as a hand over Genji’s shoulder, wishing he could pull him close and-

Jesse reads three lines of requisition items to steady himself.  He lets out the breath he doesn’t notice he had been holding.  His face is starting to burn, skin prickling and chair getting more uncomfortable the longer he tries to stay still.  He isn’t so old or out of touch with his body that he doesn’t recognize what’s going on. But there’s no explaining it.  Genji is, _mercifully_ , at his baseline level of attractiveness, nothing special or out of the ordinary today (or yesterday, or the day before yesterday), and Jesse means it in the best possible way.  

In the quiet of their room, with a dozen smaller pressing issues to attend to, he’s revved up for no good reason, and Jesse thinks he ought to have a particularly _good_ reason, considering Genji is never in need of one himself.

 _Well_ , he thinks, to hell with reason, if you’re _this_ fond of someone.

Jesse stands up, tossing his tablet to the side.  He crosses the length of the room, making no effort to conceal the eagerness of his footfalls, and settles his hands over Genji’s shoulders from behind, tipping Genji’s chair back just a bit, enough to get his attention.

Genji balances easily and tilts his head to look up at him.  The ribbon behind his head brushes over Jesse’s forearm, and it feels like static over his skin, a tempting reminder to wrap his fingers around it for later.  With a sigh, Jesse leans forward, hunching over to slide his arms the rest of the way around Genji’s shoulders.

Genji’s chair hums, hovering mechanism balancing them both.  Jesse presses his face to Genji’s neck, nuzzling the soft fiber of his throat and hard metal of his lower jaw.

“Hey there,” he says lowly, and he hopes doesn’t sound too desperate or demanding.

Genji laughs, no more than a rumble in his chest, and leans away to get a better look at him.  His hand reaches out, fingertips cool against Jesse’s forehead.  He brushes the stray strands from Jesse’s eyes in a gesture so innocent and unexpected, Jesse freezes in place.

And then, incredibly, Genji turns back to the news projections, palm sliding behind Jesse’s head, more fitting for idly petting a cat than an indication of wanting something more heated.

“There was an attempted breach at Volskaya Industries,” Genji says, while Jesse stares uselessly at the article.  “They say Talon tried to assassinate Katya Volskaya.”

“That’s… unfortunate,” Jesse says, stunned.

“Fortunate that Talon didn’t succeed,” Genji says, shrugging.  The movement jostles Jesse, bumping his chin against the armor plating of his shoulder.

“Uh,” Jesse replies, helpful.  He gives up trying to read the article, still looking at Genji’s face, the old scars down his cheek and the shell of his ear.  He lets out a slow breath, pressing his lips to the side of Genji’s mouth.

 _It’s just that_ —  

Genji has always been quick to pick up on Jesse’s moods, amorous or not, but it’s rare that he willfully ignores it.  After pulling away from the kiss and only getting another quick kiss on the cheek in return, it occurs to Jesse that maybe, for once, Genji is oblivious to it.  The mood.  The signals.  The way Jesse has his hands worming under his armor and the better half of his body pressed against him.  Any more than that and Jesse would be sitting in Genji’s lap. Which is a nice thought in and of itself.

He supposes Genji has spoiled him after all this time, being shameless about arousal and want. Jesse has never found himself lacking in sex since Genji, though he suspects that over time, he had grown used to Genji being the one to kick things up with either a sly look or a meaningful grin. It had suited the both of them well enough, and Jesse doesn’t mind following up, _really_ doesn't mind it all.

But, it’s sometimes nice to have a change of pace. It’ll be fine, if Genji doesn’t burn with need like he does this morning, but Jesse likes a good gamble every now and then.

He pulls himself up, one leg swinging over Genji’s thighs, and settles his weight in Genji’s lap.  

“Hey there,” he tries again, leaning close enough to feel Genji’s stuttering breath against his cheek.  It’s a bit underhanded, but he feels ridiculously pleased by it.

“Oh,” says Genji, and he isn’t the easiest to read at times, but Jesse can see the exact moment Genji starts reevaluating the entire morning, last night, and the day before. His expression goes blank for a second, gears turning, and then his mouth opens, wordless with dismay.  

He proceeds to look very embarrassed, but his hands go to Jesse’s waist, steadying him.

“You could have said something,” he says, tone shifting into a familiar flirtatious lilt, but it’s only out of habit. Jesse can see how Genji is still reeling inwardly from all his missed cues.  

“Like what?” Jesse asks, moving his hands over Genji, and this time Genji notices.  He eases back, giddy and hot from finally getting his full, undivided attention.  He laughs, pent up confessions tumbling out from him. “Like how I’d wanted you to fuck me through the mattress yesterday?  Or last night, how I wanted so bad take you against the wall?  And, ah, this morning, maybe, have you grind me into the couch—”

He would have gone on, working himself up beyond coherency, but Genji surges upwards, knocking him backwards against the desk.  The tablet clatters to the ground, articles forgotten.

“How about over a table?” Genji suggests, all but crawling over Jesse, eyes bright and smile delighted.

Jesse laughs, breathless gasps slipping into a moan as Genji puts his hands to good use.  

“That’ll do just fine,” he says, and pulls him the rest of the way over.  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
